


Coffee

by origamigf



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Coffee, Confessions, F/F, Getting Together, M/M, Multi, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 02:56:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29552454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/origamigf/pseuds/origamigf
Summary: He never did like coffee, not when he was young and certainly not now, but love makes you stupid like that.Based on this song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=05Sa09OupqE
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi, Sakusa Kiyoomi's Mother/Oikawa Tooru's Mother
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24
Collections: SakuAtsu Fluff Week 2021





	Coffee

**Author's Note:**

> hi hi !! i hope you enjoy this one <3

When he was young, he was introduced to the brown brewed drink. You can do lots of things with it. You can add cream, milk, more caffeine even, and even add tasty, beloved flavors like caramel and chocolate! Sounds yummy right? It practically has you drooling at the mouth, ready to take a nice sip of that brew; whether hot or cold, it has your back, doesn't it? 

Well, he disagrees, despite trying every flavor known to man, practically becoming an expert in all the research he poured into the overhyped drink, and giving it chance after chance. He was introduced to that abomination of a drink when he was around the age of ten during a weekday. He was supposed to be heading to his room, forcing himself to go and get his homework done because there’s no point in brooding over it all weekend long instead of doing it first and then spending the weekend lounging off as he pleases, but no, he was stopped by a strange new scent, one that had been absent from his household until this moment. He knew where it was coming from: his darling mother. 

His mother is a hard-working woman with striking eyes and long, lucious curly locks that match his own. People say he looks just like her all the time. She works at an office job as editor in charge at a publishing firm; sometimes, her work bleeds over into her offtime. That day, she stood at the counter over a brand new coffee machine, just unwrapped and plugged in yet sitting like it deserved to be there, like it was expected and warranted, like no kitchen could dare be without one. The pot was half-full and there sat a mug next to the machine, one he knew very well. It was his mother’s favorite mug, a nice, classy white mug absent of stains and cracks with a silly ‘#1 Wife’ plastered as a sticker across it. It was the one his father had given to his mom long ago, but he’s been gone for a while now. 

A manuscript was in one hand and the other was poised next to the mug. Her eyes were scanning the pages, darting back and forth between the words. It was practically second nature, almost as if it was muscle memory, as her fingers found the delicate handle of the mug and brought it to her lips, wary of it near the manuscript. A small sip, before setting the mug back down onto the table. 

Whatever it was couldn’t be any good, he thought, sure of himself. Surely something so dark was plainfully the mark of evil and should never be consumed. So like any naive child with a heart that only belonged to his precious mother, he raced forward and tugged on her shirt with fierce eyes and a demand for her attention. 

“Ma, ma!” He rose his voice, only a little! It was against the rules to raise your voice inside their home because his sister had sensitive hearing, but this was urgent! Plus his sister was still at cram school, so he didn’t need to be too careful right now, especially when his favorite person in the whole wide world was in danger! “What did you drink?! You shouldn’t drink that, it’s black! Like super, super black! That’s what poisions look like on TV!” 

His mother looked down, consumed by amusement once she managed to make sense of those hurried worrises. She smiled down at him, her eyes soft as she placed the manuscript on the counter, by the forsaken machine that had caused all of this. 

“Kiyo,” She snorted, bending down to crouch onto her heels to his height. “That drink isn’t a bad thing, it’s called coffee. It helps give me lots of energy when I’m low on it.”

“But it stinks!” He says, scrunching up. “I bet it tastes bad too!” 

“It depends on what type you have, it can be bitter but some folks like that! And you can put tasty things in it to make it taste better.”

“Like what?”

“Like chocolate!” She said with a warm smile. “You can put milk in it too. It’s really nice actually.” 

“Then...can I try it?” Sakusa pouted, his mind now running curious with the possibilities of this icky-looking drink actually being quite good. If his mother loves it so much, then it must be great, right?

“Ah, you can’t,” She shook her head. “Sorry hun, you’re still a kid and kids shouldn’t have coffee so soon. When you’re a bit older, you can have some, okay?”

“Older like my sister?” 

“Hmm, a bit older than that.” 

“Older than than fifteen?!” 

“Yup.” She nodded, “Seems like eons away, huh?”

“Eons?” 

“An eon is...a very long time away, let’s put it at that.” 

“Well, after an eon, then can I try?” 

She chuckled, “Yes, you can.” 

“It still stinks though. I don’t like the smell.” Sakusa whined in a soft voice. 

“Does it hurt to smell it?”

“No, it doesn’t.” Sakusa shook his head, “It’s just a strange smell. It’s okay if you like it!” 

“Oh, is that so?” His mother giggled, “Well, thank you, hun. I appreciate your permission. I promise, one day you’ll get to try it. I’ll even buy you your first cup, that’s a promise, alright?”

“Pinky promise?”

Once again, his mother, with all the beauty and joy that consumed her, giggled and rose her hand up, offering her pinkie. He took it, a sacred vow being made that day between just the two of them. 

“I pinky promise.” 

A promise is a promise, whether made silly through interlocked pinkies at age ten or a solid vow at a wedding, they’re meant to be follow through. He’s always been curious about coffee, despite his growing disdain for it as he grew up, unable to have any yet mildly bothered by the scent. His mother liked to make it every morning before she dropped them off at school and always made herself a new pot after coming back from work, just before she made dinner for everyone. When his sister got old enough, she started drinking it as well. Her garbage can filled up with empty cups that once held all kinds of festive coffees whenever she came home back from school. 

Like he said, a promise means following through, so even when the topic somehow got brought up around him not drinking coffee and someone would offer, he would refuse politely. His mother promised him she would buy him his first cup once he got old enough to consume it healthily. 

Finally, the day came. It was in the middle of his high school journey, his sixteenth birthday had just passed a few days before that special day. It was nonchalant and simple. She just handed him a cup of coffee, in a mug that read ‘#1 Son’ that had obviously just been purchased, judging how clean, polished, and pristine it looked, clearly never been touched before now. 

He took the cup in his hands, it was warm. 

“The milk is in the fridge, the creamer and sugar is in the cabinet above your head behind you. Be careful to not hit your head hun,” She said and pulled her chair out, placing her cup next to her plate of freshly cooked breakfast she had spent the prior half-an-hour on. “Make sure to eat all of your breakfast, I made it with extra-protein for you. Hopefully, it’ll help your body out to build more muscle!” 

“Is that what your new secret partner told you?” His sister said with a lightly teasing tone. 

“Oh, come off it! I’m not seeing anyone.” His mother laughed, her shoulders jumping. “I told you, my life is my job and you kids!” 

“Maaa, I’m in college - nearly done! And Kiyo is nearly finished with highschool!” She rolled her eyes, huffing. She was an adult, but still acted like the kid their mother knew her for as she whined. “How much longer are you gonna hide ‘em from us?” 

“I’m telling you, it’s nothing!” His mother batted off his sister yet away, swiftly and smoothly. His mother had spent her whole career batting off frustrating printer deadlines, uncooperative authors, and stressful professional connections, she could handle a kid or two, even when they’re all grown up like his sister was supposed to be 

“Uh-huh,” She rolled her eyes. 

“Kids these days, so nosy? and so assuming.” She snorted. 

Sakusa stood in the background, letting the warmth of the cup die out before taking a small sip, careful not to burn his tongue. One careful swig only earned him a bitterness coating his tongue. Maybe he needed to add sugar, so he followed his mother’s instructions and turned towards the cabinet to grab the creamer and sugar. He tried again and again. He even went for the different types of milk they had stocked in the fridge. 

He still disdained coffee. 

He hated coffee, even after all these years that passed. He’s gotten way too used to the smell of coffee and the endless undeserving praises it gets. If it was up to him, he would gladly never drink coffee again. The smell isn’t homey and cottagey as everyone makes it out to be. You see what you want to see, he presumes. It’s way too bitter for taste and if you want a hot, sweet beverage that bad, just try tea. Tea is just as great and you can get caffeine through some tea as well, just likely the underdog of the hot beverage world, green matcha tea. It’s a great taste all around with a warmth that is on par with coffee and is frankly, a lot healthier than everything that probably goes in just one large cup of coffee. 

Well, you might be thinking, then just don’t drink it. That’s all there is to it. If you don’t like something, don’t consume it. 

You see, that’s a little hard right now.

“Here ya go Omi-kun!” An idiot blond setter stands outside of his apartment, waiting for him to come down. It’s a winter morning, a light layer of snow covering the grass and the rooftops. Everyday, they do this  _ willingly _ . Crazy, he knows. He’s not sure how he got roped into this, but he is aware of the embarrassing  _ why _ , much worse than any horror story of his sister’s dating patterns with guys back when she was a mere teenager. 

He takes the cup of coffee. It’s not from any fancy coffee chain nor is it from a local place. It’s a thermos, dark blue with silver lining peaking through. It’s the same one he drinks from all the time. The same one he’s learned to memorize the feel of in his hands, the same one he looked forward to receiving everyday with the same vile liquid contained inside. 

Yes, that’s correct; Atsumu Miya made him coffee. 

And despite there being no whipped cream to temper this can of evil like in perhaps a nice mocha, Sakusa considers himself unbelievably whipped for Atsumu, his setter. He takes every chance he can to spend time with him, that’s why he agreed when Atsumu approached him regarding joining him on his morning run but somehow the runs had turned into delightful strolls to their work place. He had made one dumb mistake. He  _ knew  _ Atsumu adored coffee in every way and was always trying the newest wacky flavors. He joked about having a caffeine addiction and being unable to get any energy without a good ‘ol cup of joe in the morning to start off his day right. 

“Aren’t ya the same Omi-kun?” He had asked, curious as they continued on a light jog around the park one day. “I mean, coffee is great! It works great for me. I don’t know how anyone functions without it!” 

“...I don’t really drink it that much.” Sakusa said, “I prefer jasmine tea.” 

“What?” Atsumu sounded astounded, almost hurt by the difference of preference. “You can’t be serious! Why?” 

‘This is no good,’ He thought in that moment, already knowing how fucked he was the moment he let it slip out. Atsumu had stopped in the middle of his jog, demanding Sakusa’s complete and utter attention with those puppy dog eyes of his. How was he supposed to say no to those? 

“...it’s a bit pricy and overrated, that’s all.” Sakusa said nonchalant. 

“You clearly haven’t had MY coffee!” 

“Your coffee?” The question slipped out of his mouth before he could stop it. He was just curious was all. 

“Yeah, I make my own coffee! I ground my own beans and everything!” Atsumu said, a cocky smirk on his face. “None of that overpriced shit from Starbucks or that cheap junk at those local rundown cafes...Oh, ya know what! How ‘bout ya try mine? I betchya’ll(?) love it after that!”

He was grinning so wide, pride written all over his face. His eyes were sparkling and shining, even on that cloudy day where no sunshine rained down on that grass yearning for it. He just looked...so handsome like that, just within that moment where he was the most happiest and prideful about making Sakusa coffee, just him. 

Something so small, something so simple, something so dumb...it means so much to him and his heart, the one that aches with what he feels for this dumb bastard that chases his dream with a wild ambition and is always trying out something new, even if it’s dangerous or seemingly impossible, he’ll always give it a go, no matter how many times people warn him not to and reprimand him when it does go south. He never learns, just chasing that fire and burning it brighter and brighter until it consumes him and everything around him. 

Just like that mug his mother gave him on that special day, Atsumu made him feel warm. 

So how could he ever say no? 

He’d drink anything the setter brewed, no matter how bitter or icky it tastes on his tongue, because well, he’s so stupidly in love and people do ridiculous things for love. 

He hates this, yet adores every cup that Atsumu brings with him with a wide, cocky grin and bright eyes, waiting for a compliment every time. On today’s stroll, he’s determined and demanding, but really, what’s new? 

“Ya gotta love coffee now! Ya gotta be hooked now.” Atsumu grins, looking up at him. “I mean ya drink it everyday y’know…” 

This feels more like a confrontation of much more than coffee. 

“You made it, it would be rude if I didn’t drink it.” Sakusa says, trying to not give it away the deep yearning in chest he’s kept hidden away forever. 

“What?” Atsumu stills in his place in the middle of their walk to their workplace. “So ya drink it everyday because I make it for ya? Ya really don’t like coffee that much… but you still do that? Why?” 

“Like I said, it’s impolite.”

“Huh? Cut the crap, ya don’t do anythin’ ya don’t wanna do, doesn’t matter if it makes ya come off as polite or not.” Atsumu said, cocking his to the side. The confused nature of his eyes was not helping the matter, he looked...cute. “Ya avoid high-fives, hanging out late at night, drinking more than two beers all due to it bein’ stupid ‘n stuff…” 

“Well, you made it for  _ me _ ,” Sakusa could feel his face heating up. Maybe it was just due to the air being cold that his ears felt like they were melting off. 

This was bad, he thought...until he glanced up from the container to Atsumu’s face where he stood with wide eyes and flushed face. 

“Hey, Omi-kun,” Shy eyes were not ones known to be Atsumu’s but suddenly, he was a school girl stood underneath a sakura tree with a pink envelope. The image was amusing at the very least. “Do ya...perhaps, like me?” 

A moment of silence passed between them, the air suddenly so much more thicker than he thought it would be. 

His heart was caught in his throat and he didn’t even know how to unpack all the weight behind it. 

So, he did what he does best, he stayed vague. 

“Well,” He spoke, “I like you more than coffee, a...lot more.” 

Hours turn into days and days turn into weeks and before he knows it, he’s visiting home. He always tries to visit every few weeks and despite his sister being busy as she finishes up her internships after getting her graduate degree, they always coordinate to show up at the same time. They meet at the train station, walking together and chatting nonsense as they make their way to the familiar sight of their old childhood home where too many memories to count were stored, where many pets came in and out of their life inside, and where a picture stands with offerings surrounding it, the incense filling up the room as their prayers reach him. 

Before they know it, they’re inside, just like old times. 

And like you always do when you return home after a while, you join for a nice, hearty dinner where laughter springs out, smiles are exchanged, and before they know it, it’s confession time because suddenly their mother is tapping her silverware on the cloth-covered table when he’s in a middle of an argument with his sister about something he can’t even bother to recall now. 

“I have something to tell you two,” His mother, beautiful still in her mid-forties said with a gracious smile. There was more behind it, so much more. There was a sense of undeniable endearment, one that was enveloping her, making her glow. “...about my so-called ‘secret partner’.” 

“I knew it!” His sister shot up from the dinner table, a wide grin and sparkling eyes plastered across her face. “I knew it the whole time - !”

“Hush now!” His mother said lightheartedly, all of them knowing she didn’t care if his sister calmed herself or not. “We...we haven’t been  _ together  _ until about half a year ago? Maybe more. I’m not sure.”

“Huh? How do you not know?”

“Well, I don’t need to celebrate our first, second, and third month anniversaries like you did back with your boyfriend in your first year- !”

“Why did you have to remind me? I hate thinking about my boy phase!” His sister whined, her face flushing with embarrassment as she buried it in her hands. 

“Well,” His mother chuckled once more before his face settled and that endearing smile was plastered once more across it. “She’s a nurse, a caretaker. She takes care of one of my authors who suffers from chronic back pain. We just ended up chatting a few times and then we exchanged numbers...and I guess it just happened but neither of us really made note of the change between us and before we knew it, it was suddenly overflowing and here we are...dating.”

“Looks like you’re no longer a widow then.” His sister snorted again, rolling her eyes at the cheesy story. “So what’s her name?”

His mother’s eyes darted between the two of them before taking a deep breath and releasing it. “Oikawa Natsumi.”

‘Well,’ Sakusa thought, his eyes widening. ‘That’s a name I  _ do  _ know and is bound to cause trouble.’

“If we’re sharing troubling secrets then,” He spoke, his sister’s expression grew confused in the wake of his words as they both turned to him, listening closely. “I actually...started dating someone myself too. A few weeks ago, you might know him….his name is Atsumu Miya, he’s on my team as my setter.” 

“Wait, like  _ the  _ Atsumu Miya?!”

At least he isn’t the _only_ one freaking out anymore. 

**Author's Note:**

> haha come follow me at @origamigf on twt if u arent my fan already 


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